


Watching me is like watching a fire

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [18]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, HYDRA Husbands, M/M, Marijuana, On the Run, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: A day to be lazy.





	Watching me is like watching a fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarSpangledBucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/gifts).



> My friendo [StarSpangledBucky](http://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/) has a list of 30 NSFW prompts and I made a joke telling her to pick 3-4 a few months ago. Uh, here's one lol, " **On the floor** ". Also Happy Birthday, I'm sorry I'm so terrible at planning things out sometimes. <3

Jack leans back, entirely naked on a battered and worn armchair inside a cruddy old motel room he’s stuck in for a few days taking a long easy drag off a thick joint between thumb and fingers, breathing it in deep. He blows out the thick plume of smoke above his head watching it ripple through strips of leftover sunshine and dust that’s floating around the air in a haze before night comes in, relaxing further into his seat. 

He’s indulging right now, usually alert and making sure they’re protected from anything that comes their way but he had gotten some good news earlier and he felt he, _they_ , earned a little break from watching everything over their shoulder. 

Dropping his hand onto the arm beside a small side table, he lazily flicks ash in a thick oversized glass ashtray, free hand stroking fingers through the dark hair off a head that currently sat between his thighs, busy with other things while knelt down on the questionable floor. Brock pulls his mouth off Jack’s cock with a wet slick sound, a thin line of saliva and precum bridging it from glistening lips. 

Rollins loves when he looks like that, drawing fingers down his jaw, index tilting Brock’s chin up. 

“Don’t pull that face,” He takes another drag, watching copper browns follow the action, “I saved the other one like I said I would.”

Roaming his eyes a few seconds, Brock licks his lips. Jack finds it petulant but a little endearing how he gets sometimes when Brock wants before he’s given. Jack also knows he has a tendency to be wrapped around Brock’s finger when the mood is right. Eyes continue to watch him closely when he wraps his lips around the joint, taking a long drag, Jack takes Brock’s face by his chin as he sits up a little straighter and pulls him in to press their mouths together, the acrid smoke filling Brock’s mouth and down his throat as he takes it in with a deep breath. 

“Don’t cough.” Jack murmurs to him against lips, nose brushing in clear affection against the side of Brock’s, catching the small struggle to not choke on the tendrils of smoke, “You’re gonna make it worse if you do.”

They linger together in their moment until Brock’s sliding his hands up along Jack’s thighs, he keeps the eye contact between them, satisfied to not kick up a fuss anymore and turning his head to blow off the smoke before he descends back down upon his cock, still slick and waiting for him. 

Jack can’t help closing his eyes, pressing elbows into shabby arm fabric and forcing himself not to fall into the urge to fuck into that hot, wet mouth. He knows he could, that he’s _allowed_ and encouraged to but not today, as much as he wouldn’t mind fucking Brock’s throat raw, today he wants to savor the way he sits so well on bare knees in boxers against dubiously colored carpet just for him. That Brock preens to the way Jack’s eyes linger over him to watch in luxurious intervals at red lips stretched around his thick cock, that Brock loves how big he is and takes him slow and lazy like they have no cares in this world. 

Brock takes him in deeper, because sometimes his slow and lazy changes speeds on Jack when he gets impatient, always wanting more and greedy for it. Jack can feel the slight resistance of his reflex and Brock pauses, breathing in tight huffs through his nose, lashes wet as he pushes to have it, fingers digging into the meat of Jack’s thighs. 

Taking another draw of the joint precariously sitting between his fingers, Jack pushes his hips forward, feeling Brock’s throat clenching around him. Brock slips a hand away between his own legs, body stiffening when Jack shifts his hips again, just a fraction and Brock makes a noise, a pitiful cry pressed together with a choked noise as his throat swallows more of him and Jack knows Brock’s cum already.

Their eyes meet again and Jack gives him a tilt of his head, expelling smoke into the air, lips parted as he hears the tight groan before he knows he’s doing it, “One of these days I wanna watch you cum untouched while you choke on it.”

It's the affection in his words that causes Brock to let his eyes close, grasping to control his breathing the best he can around Jack’s cock, refusing to pull off him. Brock’s stray hand comes back, pressed against Jack’s thigh and smearing warm cum over the expanse of it, both hands now there gripping him, grounding him. 

Jack reaches in and threads fingers through black hair, so thick and gorgeous and he relishes over it a little before giving it a small tug. “Finish what you started Baby, don’t get lazy now.”

Brock’s eyes flutter open and he gives him a slight glare in lieu of not being able to talk back otherwise. Soon he moves, head bobbing up and down as he slowly fucks his throat on that cock he’s stuffed full of. Jack can’t help himself but fall into it, slumping back as he lets Brock do all the work, ashes crumbling away against the arm of the chair. The contrast of Brock’s tight throat and gentle tongue makes Jack close his eyes, savoring everything Brock does to him as he feels the satisfactory hum around his cock that Rumlow lets loose knowing exactly what buttons to push. He prides himself really, Jack knows he does, over doing this because Brock’s a perfectionist in things he takes seriously. 

He forces his eyes open to watch as Brock pulls off to tease the head with his tongue while copper browns stare arrogantly back at him, knowing _everything_ that makes him weak. Brock drops his head forward again to take the entirety of Jack’s cock in one swallow, eyes watering as he does but they both know he can. 

He’s not sure if it's the way Brock looks at him, wrung and worn just then while he’s got his cock stretching those pretty lips of his with his nose pressed into skin or the way fingers dig stubbornly into his thighs and Brock struggles _just barely_ with the perseverance that’s always gotten Jack hot. Only that he cums to either or both with his chest tight and his hand pulling at Brock’s hair with a jerk, mouth hung open but no sounds escaping and the both of them locked in a fixed gaze that only makes it more exhilarating. 

His eyes stray just enough to watch Brock’s throat bob and swallow every bit of him down before he’s gingerly pulling off, Jack’s cock sliding out only until the head is between bruised lips, suckling tenderly at it for a private moment before he licks Jack clean, never once taking his eyes off him. 

It’s then, when Brock glances to the side of the armchair, that Jack realizes he dropped the last bit of his joint and it had burnt itself out with a black mark left in the carpet. He’s surprised really that the whole place didn’t go up in flames, not sure what was soaked into the cheap fibers but he would have put money on something flammable. Either way, he doesn’t really care, reaching over to wipe off his thigh with a discarded shirt and then take the other joint between his lips flicking two fingers upwards to summon Brock.

Sometimes Brock ignored his direction, Jack knows if anyone really tried to cajole a testy Rumlow to play submissive they’d be lucky to leave the place alive. You just had to know how to work with him, and Jack was fond of knowing every which way to push Brock’s buttons and get him to purr. 

Brock climbs on top of him without his boxers on, there’s a split second moment Jack can see past one muscular thigh at the mess on the carpet, most of it already soaked in and just a dark stain for the most part. Boneless and spent, Brock rests his head sleepily on Jack’s shoulder, legs draped over Jack’s thighs and one arm of the armchair like he’s a child and not a grown man who could kill with his bare hands. Jack’s mouth twitches with a small smile over it, he runs his palm through Brock’s sweaty hair then along his back, massaging him brusquely and listening to the soft groans against his neck. He wraps his arm around his back when he’s done, finally holding the joint by bruised red lips in offering.

He makes no movement to finally take the puff he wanted and fingers prod at Brock’s ribs.

“Shotgun it Jackie.”

“That’s so lazy, even for you.”

“Knees hurt, couldn’t even hand a man a damn pillow,” Brock shoots out defensively, voice gravely and frayed. He tucks his face in, nuzzling just behind Jack’s ear, “Give it to me Jackie.”

Despite the fact that he just got off, Jack’s hardwired to react to that line alone, his cock twitches a little and he snorts to Brock’s obvious ploy to get what he wants because he’s very aware that he’s Jack’s weakness. 

“A fucking child.” He chides before taking a couple puffs. He holds the joint away, nudging Brock lightly from his neck and moves in, Brock’s mouth open and Jack presses their lips together as he slowly exhales and Brock slowly inhales. 

Jack watches him with a half lidded stare, staring as eyes slowly shut and an arm comes up to drape around the back of Jack’s neck and shoulders. Brock holds in the smoke, a little of it escaping through his nose before he finally exhales, breathing in languorously after it as he opens his eyes and Jack smiles because he just wants to.

“More?” Jack asks, shifting his body to better balance Brock, taking another drag.

Brock nods, hazy in his post-orgasmic state, lazy and indulgent as his fingers slip into Jack’s hair, his other hand feeling out the bare chest he was leaning against, thumb brushing along one nipple absently.

The second time around, Jack slides his hand up, curling it around the back of Brock’s neck. He leans to the side and puts the joint in the gaudy ashtray before coming back into the heady cloud of smoke that sits around them as he leans forward and exhales into Brock’s awaiting mouth, lips sealing tight over his. Brock inhales deeply, hand pressed over Jack’s heart as he holds it in, the both of them pressing foreheads against each other until he wants to blow it out, turning his head away to do so. 

Jack presses his nose into Brock’s cheek, his hand sliding along one thick powerful thigh, letting his fingers splay to cover more ground, receiving a pleasant moan over it. When he draws his head back, Brock’s finally got his fingers on the joint himself and already exhaling his own drag. _Fucking spoiled_ comes to Jack’s mind immediately but he says nothing, hand rubbing one of Brock’s knees for him.

“Mm, you keep rubbin’ me all over, I’m just gonna have to let you do a hellauvalot of other things ‘sides keepin' an eye out for problems.” 

Jack considers this, his mind raking through all his mentally stored information and weighing out pros and cons to fucking into the night and all the way through it instead of taking shifts to sleep. One of them had to be a look out for one more day in this shithole before they were on the move again. Brock only watches him in amusement as he finishes off the joint and keeps tangling his fingers in Jack’s hair. 

Finally he catches Brock’s eye with a smirk, “So, what’re the other things you mentioned you want done to you? I have to weigh them out too you know.”

Chuckling, though a little rough worn still, Brock twists his body to stamp out the last of the joint into the awaiting ashtray. He turns back with a dangerous look and a smile that’s equally as precarious, “Take me to bed and I’ll show ya. Got all night Sweetheart.”

Jack outright _grins_ , sliding his legs back from their stretch preparing himself to stand, “Gonna make sure you do Baby, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Repetition by Purity Ring


End file.
